It was difficult for me to hold on and not signal to her that I was going. It was also dishonest, but I was in no position to allow myself to be honest. When she came back and sat down, her face was red. “The thing is,” she said, “he loves me…” I searched desperately for something witty to say but couldn’t think of anything, so I kept quiet. “Are you staying?” she said, putting her hand on my arm again.

“If I may.”

She nodded, lost in thought for a moment, then crossed her elbows and, in a single movement, pulled her tight-fitting T-shirt up over her soft, full, naked breasts. My heart started beating again in my chest. It had seemed motionless for months. Still silent, Claudia stood up from the table and took off her pants and her red panties simultaneously, with that dancing pace that I loved in her more than any other thing, and as she passed Biondella she gave the girl a brief caress. She pressed a lever and the couch folded out into an already made-up bed.

I felt her arms around my neck and her fingers in my hair, I put my forehead between her breasts, and we stayed like that, motionless, until her fingers began, lightly, curiously, to explore my body, recognizing me. Then, with an angry little cry, she started moving her hips. It was a slow movement of enticement, as ancient as the undertow on a beach, and I felt a forgotten languor spreading from my numbed belly. “Oh, Leo!” she said softly. “My dear, dear, dear Leo!” She stopped for a moment, just long enough for me to grab hold of her, then started swaying again, caressing me and saying over and over, “Come, Leo, come, come, come, my dear…” until, as if at a sudden blow, she quivered, arched, and planted her nails in my back.

I collapsed into sleep but awoke a few times during the night. One of those times, Claudia was smoking in silence, stroking my hair, while sounds came through the open window, voices in the trattorias on the square, the clatter of dishes, the melancholy sound of an out-of-tune trumpet. I lay there, motionless, and listened until I fell asleep again.

I slept until late morning, when I woke up to an empty apartment. I found coffee already made, along with a note. Stay as long as you like. I thought about it, as I lay in a bathtub filled with warm water, I thought about whether to stay or not, until I realized that the only thing I could do now was leave and never come back. And so, like so many other times, for the last time I got out of her bath, dried myself, finished the coffee, and left, firmly closing the door behind me.

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